Wreck
by Radioactive Ferret
Summary: "Yer a mess, Izuru," he could almost hear moments before sleep claimed him. "Yer such a mess." Yaoi, smut, the usual! Gin x Kira, prompt from the Bleach Kink Meme


Hey guys~! Back with more pr0nz for y'all! Um... the prompt called for crying, which is why this is kinda depressing. Not my usual thing, but I like how it turned out! So yeah. Enjoy! And be sure to check the kink meme for more yummy porn! There's actually a rather delicious HisagiXUlquiorra one on there! -drool-

* * *

It was always like this. Always had been, for that matter. There would be a night (many nights, lately) when Matsumoto would actually be working for a change. When Renji would train so hard that he'd have to be carried to his bed after he finally passed out. When Hisagi would be so swamped with the workload from his defected Captain that he'd just fall asleep at his desk.

Kira would often spend these nights alone in his room with a jug or two of sake. However, once the alcohol was gone, he always found himself in the same place.

He would run his fingers across the dark wood of the desk he had never actually seen Ichimaru sitting at. Rest his hand on that hideous chair that was so soft it gave back pain to anyone who sat in it. Press his cheek against the cool windowpane that had needed cleaning since he'd been in the Fourth Division all those years ago.

"_Yer a mess, Izuru."_

_Kira couldn't have replied even if he'd wanted to. It was how Ichimaru liked it. He would lavish his fukutaicho with feather-light touches, kisses, licks, bites and scratches. It could go on for minutes or hours, but Gin would never stop until Kira was nothing but a writhing, whimpering, quivering wreck; eyes glazed in lust, lewd moans spilling continuously from his mouth, muscles taut and fingertips white and bloodless as he mindlessly dragged them across the glass of the window he could only just reach from his awkward position on the floor..._

"_Yer such a mess."  
_

"It's _your_ fault," Kira whispered, breath fogging slightly against the dirty glass. "Your fault. You always..."

Always what? Played those twisted mind games? Without a doubt. Mercilessly teased everyone he could? Absolutely. Lied to, manipulated, and tormented anyone who thought he cared about them? Yes, that was it.

How many times had he gone against his better judgment and moral convictions to please Ichimaru? More times than he could count, and even more still than he would willingly admit. He didn't even know _why_ he did it. Something about the Third Division Captain seemed to draw him in. Something in his vulpine smile, his pale skin, his...

Kira groaned as he felt the oh-so-familiar pressure between his legs. "No," he hissed. "Not this time."

"_What's that s'ppose ta mean?" Gin asked, grin widening. "I ain't gonna force ya. If ya don' want this, ya can go whenever ya want."_

"_N-no… that's not what I meant…"_

_Gin's smile faltered for a split second, then returned full force. "Aah," he said. "D'ya think yer not gonna beg this time, I-zu-ru~?" he taunted, one long finger trailing along his fukutaicho's heaving chest. "Hm? That it?"_

_When Kira didn't reply, Gin leaned forward to whisper in his ear, hot breath sending shivers down the blond's spine. "Yeh'll beg, Izuru," he said breathily. "Yeh'll scream and thrash and fight, but in the end, yeh'll beg. Ya always do."_

"_I w-won't...!"_

"_Don' fight it."  
_

But he couldn't have fought it even if he'd tried. His face was hot and his eyes were stinging as he slid to the floor, and part of his mind was screaming in disgust and he pulled his knees to his chest and sobbed. Just the thought of Ichimaru's hands on him, the memory of his breath on his ear, and the lingering echo of his smooth, lilting voice had Kira slumped against the wall, hands down his hakama moving in hasty, desperate jerks.

"Taicho..." he gasped, and heard his need, the desperation in his voice, and was sickened by it. His shoulders shook with sobs, his breath hitched and hot tears streamed unchecked down his flushed face.

"_Aw, why're ya cryin' Izuru?"_

"_T-taicho... please..." It was barely a whisper, but he knew Gin had heard him. "I… I c-can't take it anymore... Please..."_

_He could hear Gin snickering above him before replying in that faux innocent voice that never really fooled anyone, "'Fraid I don' know what ya mean."_

_Kira all but screamed. Any semblance of patience or control had long since shattered, and the raw need spiraling through his mind and body left no room for Ichimaru Gin's sadistic little games. He needed release now__, and that fox-faced bastard knew it._

"_J-just do it!" he choked, feeling the last shreds of dignity he had vanish. "Taicho, please! I n-need you!"_

_Ichimaru's grin vanished, and his eyes opened to narrow slits. "Beg for it," he growled, voice much lower and breathy than it had been up to this point. "Beg me to fuck ya, Izuru."_

_Kira didn't need to be told twice. "Fuck me! Please, taicho, fuck me now!"  
_

It was all a distant memory, but he could still feel it. In his mind's eye, it was Ichimaru's fingers moving inside him, Ichimaru's hand swiftly jerking him closer and closer to completion, and in his haze of tears and sake, _oh_ God, he could fucking _feel_ it.

"Taicho...!"

The tears were coming faster now, his nose running as his sobbing became uncontrollable, and when he finally felt his tense muscles give way to wave after wave of pleasure, he collapsed to the floor, a shaking, crying and thoroughly spent wreck.

"_Yer a mess, Izuru," _he could almost hear moments before sleep claimed him. _"Yer such a mess."_


End file.
